


In The Name Of,

by Angel_made_of_scars



Category: Markiplier Egos, Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Adopted Children, Almost none of this would tag, Angst with a Happy Ending, But sort of?, Darkstache - Freeform, Dysfunctional Family, M/M, Not Cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 05:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21440902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angel_made_of_scars/pseuds/Angel_made_of_scars
Summary: Wilford has missed Damien since the day he died. The day he became Dark. And he loves Dark, and their strange family, their adopted son, Yandereplier, and the home they’ve built within the place that once destroyed them. But one day Wil looses control. He brings Damien back. Only to realize he’s made a mistake.
Relationships: Darkiplier/Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	In The Name Of,

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a lovely few cosplay videos from tiktok, and they’ll be linked below! Sorry you guys, I didn’t know what house setting to use! You’re amazing!

“Please- Dark, let me see him. He’s a part of you- he must be there!” 

“Wil, you know he’s gone. He is... a voice. An echo.” 

“But he’s not! He’s right there!” Wil shouted, poking a finger at Darks chest. It fizzled through his aura as a strong blue light emitted, making Darkiplier jerk away from him.

“What are you doing?” He questioned, holding his cane at his side in a tighter fist than normal. Wilford was losing control. His actions erratic. It wasn’t often that it happened anymore, but it did happed. 

“You’ll only be gone a moment. It will be fine! I’ll fix everything!”

“Wilford, only I can-” Dark was cut off by another erratic pull at his mind, Wil digging deeper as only he could do to pick and choose, seal away Celine in his mind.

“Wil, only I can commune with them. I’ll be gone.”

“I’ll bring you back!” Wil laughed, pushing Darks shoulder up against the wall. Dark growled and grabbed his wrist to push him away, but another ice pick in his head drove him forward, until his forehead met Wilfords shoulder.

“There, there. I need to see my love, Darky.” 

It stopped him dead. He could feel his aura pulse out of control, and his eyes flickering between blue and red, before settling on a dark gray again. He gripped Wilfords arms, and sat up, staring him in the eyes.

“I thought...” 

“What?” Wilford stopped, staring at him. His eyes were full, crazed and black, until you almost couldn’t see his beautiful irises. Dark mouth opened to speak, but very much unlike him, he couldn’t. Celine was fading. His fight was leaving. Wilford didn’t love him after all. Who could love a demon? 

“Don’t think like that. You are him. I need to- see him.” Wilford stuttered. It seemed he almost regained sense, before blinking and it was gone. He put a hand to Darks weary face, lifting his head.

For a moment Dark was pulled back to dancing in the halls to old records, pulled back to that party all those years ago, before the others began to show up throughout the world. Pulled back to Damien, to himself, kissing William tentatively, telling him he had felt this way for a while, the alcohol helping his traitorous tongue.

He was pulled back to the scratching of his mustache on his face, and the strange feelings of a headache, and then- Celine. In his mind. In their minds, together. Looking at William lose his sanity, and realizing the pitter-patter of a heartbeat no longer existed, but was still there. In his head, drawing him towards the man. He couldn’t help slowly smile, loosening his grip. 

“I hope I feel this again.” Dark said, his voice distorting to two different tones, as his aura physically shook the manor. Distantly he could hear a voice as they entered the house, asking what was going on, yelling, but Wilford just smoothed his hair down and shushed them.

“Of course. We’ve always felt this, have we not, Damien?” Wilford questioned. The doors in his mind snapped shut, and he dropped to the floor, unconscious.

“What did you do?! Dad! What did you do to Dad?!” Yandereplier yelled, his voice erratic as he pulled a knife from seemingly nowhere. That was Wilfords son alright.

“You’re not my dad. What did you do with him, I’ll-”

“Of course it’s me! What do you mean? Look! He’s back!” Wilford said, excitedly stooping down and sitting up the limp body on the floor. Yandereplier stormed out of the room, running as fast as he could. It wasn’t right. Whatever his dad has done, he had killed his other dad, he had-

Tears started to run, as suddenly he was standing back in front of the body, blinking in confusion and stumbling back. Except, his dads body was moving, blinking awake, but it wasn’t- him. He could tell. The shocked look on his face gave that away.

“My Damien... you’re back.” Wilford whispered, letting go of Yan’s hand, which Yan didn’t even register he was holding. He jerked away and stepped back.

“William?”

“It’s Wilford now, darling.” 

“Yes, of course. Wilford. Wil- it- doesn’t matter. I could- feel you. I could see you.” Damien blinked, still stuttering over his words. Wilford held out his hands and gently helped him to stand, holding most of his weight as he readjusted to his body. His heart not beating any longer, powered by the manor and the demon in his mind. 

“Wil.” He whispered, smiling finally as he touched Wilfords face, his mustache now so bright it made Damien chuckle as he leaned over to kiss him.

Wilford laughed a bright, happy laugh and kissed him on the lips, not hearing Yandereplier rush away from the scene. He held Damien’s hips like he used to, before dipping him over, making Damien gasp and cling to his shoulders.

“I can’t- please, stop.” Damien said, making Wilford blink in confusion, before pulling him back up roughly. Damien held tight to Wilfords yellow shirt, blinking rapidly.

“Dizzy.” Damien murmured.

“Of course! You just came back from the dead! Or, the demon. How about a drink?” Wilford asked, producing a bottle of wine from seemingly nowhere. Damien chuckled, and pushed it away.

“Maybe a glass of water for now dearest.” 

Wilford blinked, not able to move for a moment. Dark hasn’t called him that in- so many years. He didn’t know how many. But this wasn’t Dark, that’s right.

“Of course.” Wilford smiled, leading him to the kitchen with gentle hands keeping him steady.

* * *

“Yan, please come eat dinner! Damien made spaghetti, we can put chocolate syrup on it! Like that movie!” Wilford called through the door. 

“That is not my dad. My dad doesn’t let us do that. We do that in secret, at three in the morning. You said it’s tradition.” Yan called back.

“Well, I don’t think Damien would mind if we did that either-”

“Willi- Wilford? Is something wrong?” Damien asked, stepping up from the stairs and into the hall. Wilford turned and smiled. He had put back on the “Mayor” tag. He may not be mayor anymore, but Wilford had kept it.

“We adopted a beautiful boy, who loves his classmates so much! And he does well in school! And he loves madness just as much as us!” Wilford yelled, grabbing Damien’s hands and twirling him around, gaining a startled shout before laughter, and kissing Damien’s lips. 

“But, he doesn’t want to come out of his room!” Wil shouted, getting a grumpy look on his face, and crossing his arms suddenly. Damien chuckled and pulled them apart, taking his hand. 

“I... am not this boys father.” Damien said gently. It struck Wilford suddenly, like a wave crashing over him. He just gaped as Damien pulled away from him, and held his hands.

“Maybe its best if we leave him to process this. It won’t be the same exactly, not like before.” Damien said. Wil just nodded. 

“Right, yes! He can eat when he’s ready.” Wilford agreed, although something rugged at his chest. An invisible string as he walked away, towards the stairs, with Damien’s smiling face beside him.

* * *

Wilford dearest, I’m going to take a quick shower before bed. Are you alright with doing the dishes?” Damien asked. Wilford grinned a sharp looking smile, full of mischief.

“Of course! Maybe then we can... get dirty all over again.” Wilford chuckled. Damien sheepishly chuckled as he walked away, clearly flustered. It was new, and he couldn’t wait to figure it out.

As always, things seemed to happen out of order, as Wilford looked at a clean kitchen and a single dirty dish, with no syrup to be seen. He put it away and walked to their room, stripping his clothes and bursting into the bathroom. 

“I’m here Darkling!” Wilford yelled, startling Damien so much that he physically jumped. He could see him through the fogged glass door, and grinned, twirling his mustache. 

“How about we... get down to it?” Wilford asked, popping open the door and stepping in, the water not nearly as hot as he was used to.

“Dames’ it’s practically the arctic in here, warm it up! Or is that my job?” Wil smirked, suddenly shoving him against the shower wall. Damien’s shy smile fell and he pushed back on Wilfords shoulders, just the slightest bit, enough to stop him in his tracks.

“I’m not ‘Darkling’, and- we’ve never... Wil. We’re going to have to relearn this. I am not him. I think, maybe we should wait on something like that.” Damien said gently, moving Wilfords hands to his waist. 

“I love you dearest, we just need to figure out who we can be.” Damien said gently, kissing him lightly and pulling Wilford in, the not-quite hot steam filling his nose with the smell of shampoo and Damien’s signature aroma of books that he seemed to carry. 

It wasn’t right. Wilford knee that. He couldn’t pinpoint why. He didn’t know what was wrong about Damien. He loved Damien. He loved Dark. They were the same! But he was t the same. He was different. The kids was wonderful. But not... right.

“Of course, darling.” Wil said, the nickname rolling off his tongue and feeling wrong. 

“Turn around, let me wash this for you.” Damien said, popping open the shampoo again and lathering it gently into Wilfords hair. It wasn’t the same, but it was ok. 

“Aren’t you going to do my mustache first?” Wil asked. Damien paused.

“That’s right. You do wash your mustache with shampoo. Why do you do that, again?” Damien asked. 

“Well, it’s hair. Like anything else.” Wilford said, suddenly startled, like he hadn’t been before. This was a stranger next to him. But it wasn’t. It was Dark. It was Damien. His stomach settled and he smiled, letting Damien’s soft chuckle worm it’s way into his mind as he rinsed his hair for him. He could learn to wash his mustache second. That was alright.

* * *

Damien took forever to get out of the shower. Dark stayed in a long time, soaking in the heat and relishing in the steam filling his senses, while Damien bathed slowly, scrubbed every bit of skin, and dried off. He preferred to shave out of the shower, where he could see better, and then applied aftershave, and brushed his teeth. He applied deodorant and combed the now only damp hair. Dark never took this much time, and didn’t often shave. When he did, using an electric razor. 

Wil waited to the bedroom, sipping on the bottle of wine left behind earlier. His suspenders provided some grounding, settling his mind and reminding his vagrant body that he was present as they hugged his skin. As soon as he stepped out of the bathroom, Damien and Wilford froze. Wilfords own heart sank in a very pointedly unpleasant way, and Damien’s own face twisted in confusion.

“You’re not out of your clothes.”

“Mark?” Wilford ground out, half disgusted and half confused. No, he had brought back his Dames, his favorite mayor. Mark was- he had- he died. Yandereplier. A side effect of the death, the magic the actor carried. His face spreading through time- was he back? Had Wilford made Damien and Dark disappear?

“Deep breaths, dearest. Do you want the boy? Do you want Yandere?” Damien asked, his gentle hands too gentle, too light against Wilfords shoulders. He suddenly smacked his hands away, making Damien step back.

“Take off that ridiculous robe!” Wilford yelled. Damien nodded, stripping it away from his body to reveal a plain light blue shirt, and a pair of boxer briefs underneath. This was somehow worse, but it settled Wilfords mind just a bit. 

“Damien. Why in God’s name don’t you have your suit on?” Wilford asked. 

“I could ask the same about why you have clothes on.” Damien chuckled, settling down into the bed slowly, so as not to startle him. 

“You know I don’t take these off, silly goose!” Wilford chuckled, suddenly shifting in mood.

He remembered when he made them wear pajamas to bed. Dark had actually slept soundly, but woke up dismayed at how improper he looked, his auras twisted around the pastel blue things. Within minutes he was back in the suit, never dirtied by sweat or food, as he was no longer alive, and also never messy. Wilford had multiple pairs of his own clothes, but taking them off somehow felt wrong, before his time. As if it made him a different person. He hated the feeling. 

“Right. Are you alright? You seemed quite startled for a moment there.” Damien said.

“Of course I’m alright. Now hold me.” Wilford sassed, throwing himself down, facing away from him and giggling. Damien rolled his eyes, but chuckled, and gently wrapped his arm over Wil, the other settling under Wilfords pillow.

Wilford waited for him to tighten his grip. Shift around maybe, to get comfortable for the night. He didn’t sleep much after all, but he always held Wil tightly through the night, never once letting up. That is. Dark. Damien slept. Maybe?

“Are you going to go to sleep tonight?” Wil asked. Damien chuckled into the crook of his neck, the little huffs of air making Wilford settle a bit.

“I was planning on it.” He answered. He followed it up with a gentle kiss to Wilfords neck, so similar to Dark that for maybe only the third time that night, he felt at peace. He felt whole, and at home. Until Damien drifted off, his grip loose. Wilford didn’t sleep.

* * *

“Morning my black hole.” Wilford slurred, rolling over. No one met his face. No one there to kiss him. He sat up, immediately on edge, and grabbed his gun from the nightstand drawer. If someone had taken his Dark, he would have multiple words, maybe two or three, before they died a bitter end. 

He stormed out of the room, twitching his lip and cracking his neck, heading up the stairs to the voices. He could hear crying. If they touched Yandereplier too, he would-

“Easy dearest! Now just put that down!” Damien jumped from the bed where he was sitting, Yan wiping his face and jumping up.

“Dad!”

“Dames. What happened?” Wilford settled, throwing the gun comically over his shoulder as Damien made a startled noise somewhere between a shout and a plea of ‘no’ as it hit the floor. He sighed heavily when it didn’t fire, shaking his head. 

“I heard crying. I came to investigate. He let me in. He didn’t want to take the bus to school this morning. He... misses his father.”

“That’s absurd, I am his father.”

“His other father.” Damien said. 

“Right. But you’re part of his father-”

“But I am not his father.” Damien said. Yandereplier turned his head, trying not to look sad at Wilfords dropping face. 

“Right... why don’t Dark and I just make some pancakes. You can stay home from school today, right Dames? We can all get along!” Wilford said, smiling, his eyes becoming wet. Damien sighed and walked towards him, putting his hand on Wilfords shoulder. 

“We can’t exist at the same time. I- remember now. It seems sleep did me a world of good. I remember your time with him. I’m not him, Wil.” Damien said. Wilford nodded, stepping away with a blank face, before walking to Yan’s side and melting into him, a familiar hug comforting to his skin, his mind, his whole being.

“Dad, this isn’t right.” Yandereplier said. 

“No... it doesn’t seem to be, does it?”

And then he was alone, his arms falling. He was in the kitchen, a pan sitting out and the old record player scratching. He blinked and looked around. His traumas were taking him once more. He felt cold. Still, better not to focus on it.

He walked to the record and picked it up, restarting it. As a gentle tone filled his senses, he started to sway, a smile playing on his face once more. He remembered dancing with Dark to this tune. Sitting down at the candlelit table Dark had set up himself, for their somewhat- anniversary, seeing his shadowed face and the aura swirling almost nervously around him. Suddenly being on the other side of the room, and beckoning him over, to sway and twirl, Dark dipping him over and making him laugh.

“Wilford!” Damien said, startled and rushing into the room. 

“What. It’s me!” Wilford said, spinning on his heals. 

“Dark.”

“No. It’s Damien. You disappeared.” Damien said.

“Ah. I do that.” 

“For two. Days.” Damien said. Wilford made a face, his cheeks puffing and his lips pinching like a fish, before he popped the bubble and made a noise.

“I do that.” He said awkwardly, shrugging, and holding out his arms.

“But not without leaving Yandereplier without his parents.” Damien said. Wilford stopped, his arms sagging for a moment. 

“Where is he?” 

“At school. I convinced him he couldn’t wait forever, and said I would call the school if you turned up, and have him come home.” Damien said. Wilford nodded, taking in the information. His mind was twisting, whirring like broken machinery, and his body wanting to flee again. 

“Dance with me.” He said finally, holding out his arms again.

“Wil, now isn’t the-”

“Please. Please, Dames.” Wilford interrupted. Something about his tone made Damien relent, stepping forward and taking the lead, as always. It comforted Wil’s mind, but only for a moment. 

_“Hold me close, and hold me fast, the magic spell you cast, this is La Vie En Rose.”_

It wasn’t right. The way Damien stood stiff, getting the movements right while concentrating, rather than having confidence in knowing the steps. His suit too perfectly fitting, buttoned up precisely, and his mayor pin in place, rather than gone. His hair combed neatly back. His presence not quite there, and his hold not tight enough, his hands too gentle, like Wil would break. 

_“When you press me to your heart, I’m in a world apart, a world where roses bloom.”_

Wilford wasn’t right. He had skipped. He never skipped anymore. He was content to be. But his mind was not anymore, this was wrong, he was losing time, he was going to do it again-

_Give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be, La Vie En Rose.”_

“I did.” Wilford mumbled, the lyrics hitting his mind as he remembered them, singing them to Dark drunkenly later on that same night. Remembering, as he was dipped precisely, perfectly.

“What?”

“You’re not Dark.” Wilford said sadly, as Damien sat him up. The record became silent for a moment, and Damien stepped away to stop it. 

“I thought you knew that. Or, I thought you’d understand that by now. I’m not. You brought me back.”

“Yes. Yes, I did. I loved you. I-I missed you. But you became someone else. You became him. I... I wasn’t missing you. I was missing the madness.” 

“I think, ironically, that’s the most sane thing you’ve said.” Damien said, smiling and stepping forward to take Wilfords hands.

“Would you like to have him back?” Damien asked. Wilford just nodded, swallowing hard, speechless, before hugging him.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Wil. I think I have for a very long time. Through him. I said before. I could feel you, hear you, sense you wandering his head. His thoughts. But just because we’re in love, doesn’t mean we’re right for each other.” Damien said. Wilford nodded, pulling back, and smiling.

“I fucked it up, Dark will be... mad.”

“No, he won’t. Because I am part of him. And I have enjoyed every chaotic minute. But next time, tell Dark to just take you to a skate park, or on a roller coaster, like you’re always asking for.” Damien laughed, leaning forward to kiss his lips. Wilford shut his eyes, for once taking in peace instead of manic energy.

“Are you ready?” Wilford asked.

“Yes. It’s been a pleasure Wilford.” Damien smiled, gently grabbing hold of Wilfords arms as Wil fought through memories, new feelings, a new being, slowly opening doors that had been sealed, as Damien took labored breaths, an aura beginning to show around his body.

He smiled one last time as the last door opened, and Wilford retreated, letting the two spirits mix, and the presence of the house do its job, watching as his eyes rolled back and light surrounded his body, almost blinding. If he wanted, he could look through it. See Celine greeting Damien back, smiling and laughing and fighting, a twisted relationship, the two binding together in a dance he would never have understood if he didn’t have Dark. 

Then, he fell limp, Wilford catching him less easily than before, his weight somehow heavier, more drawn to the manors floor even. He dropped down himself, lowering them both, and putting the demons head in his lap, twisting the hairs on his head out of the slicked-back design, until he was satisfied Dark would be happy with the ruffled curls. He gently unpinned the Mayors tag from his suit, and unbuttoned his shirt.

With no movement, he flopped back on the floor, his back hitting the kitchen tiles and his mind calming. He wasn’t sure how long it would take for Dark to wake up. He was ready to nap right here, pull him closer and hold him until they awoke, but it didn’t seem he had to wait. A moment later the body startled, eyes opening and blinking, and the aura settling around him, vibrating while it sank into its host. 

“Wil.”

“Darky?” Wilford questioned, sitting up so quickly he almost head-butted Dark in the process. His reflexes were quick, and he leant out of the way.

“Yes. Was I- he not happy? Were you?” Dark asked. 

“No! I love Damien, but I don’t love him like I love you. I-I... had a bad moment of, not-so clarity. He is a buttercup in the halloween bag that makes up you, and I need more sweets than just one. I need all of it, I need you. I missed you. I-I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, my love.” Wilford stumbled. Dark just smiled, taking his hand.

“It’s alright. I understand you didn’t mean any harm to us.”

His mind was suddenly on fire again, and he was shaking, before disappearing entirely, reappearing a foot away from him, with a single drop of blood on his thumb, and a rose in his other hand. He shook his head, and slid closer on the floor to him once more, Dark taking his injured thumb and kissing it gently. Wilford simply giggled.

“I think you mean a peanut butter cup.” Darks voice rumbled, as he pulled him in to hug him.

“What in Gods name are you talking about?” Wilford asked, pulling back.

“You said buttercup. Buttercup is a small yellow flower.” Dark smiled, his aura snapping like lightning before he plucked a single, tiny blossom out of nowhere. He tucked it into Wilfords hair gently, an act he would only do for Wilford in private. He gasped and held out the rose excitedly, tucking it behind Darks ear, only slightly scratching him.

“That must be what this is for! Oh, I’m clever! Always on top of it!” 

“Yes, you are.” Dark sighed, leaning in to kiss his lips, his hand more firm than before as it pulled Wilfords chin towards him. Wilford hummed happily and smiled. 

“Why the hell did I ever think-”

“Roller coaster.”

“What?” Wilford asked, his lips moving in a complete circle as he spoke.

“I’m... did you put an idea in my head? To take you to an amusement park?” Dark growled, irritated at the new thoughts flooding him.

“No, Damien may have.” Wilford giggled. Dark sighed, and reached to run a hand through his hair, a habit he had picked up.

“Is this oil?” Dark asked.

“Yes again!” Wilford said easily, standing quickly and helping him stand as well. Dark seemed about to question him thoroughly, when the door opened. 

“Dads!” Yandereplier yelled, running forward to jump into Darks arms. Dark smiled gently and hugged him, letting him down to jump on Wilford. The flower fell from his ear as he was toppled, falling on the floor in a heap as Yandere scrambled up.

“He was crazy! He brought somebody out of your head! But then that guy was actually pretty nice and made good food, but he wouldn’t let me put any soy sauce in my soup just because it was high sodium, and I- never got to thank him. But I’m so glad you’re back.” He rambled, jumping around, and gesturing with wild hands. Wilford huffed from the floor.

“Amusement park?” He asked. Dark sighed and nodded.

“Alright. I suppose, we need a bit of madness. Don’t we Wil?” Dark asked. 

“Really?! We’re finally going?!” Yan started to ramble again. Dark smiled at Wilfords silly grinning face still on the floor. He could never be mad. Wilford forgot sometimes who he was. Who they all were, as a family. But he would always come back to them. He would always keep them whole. He was the strange bubblegum scented glue holding them together.

Darkiplier was perfectly fine with that.

**Author's Note:**

> https://vm.tiktok.com/HJPQd1/  
https://vm.tiktok.com/HJNcRc/  
https://vm.tiktok.com/HJd3we/  
https://vm.tiktok.com/HJ6Gf9/  
https://vm.tiktok.com/HJkfko/
> 
> Your family dynamic videos are lovely, and I’ll never stop loving them!


End file.
